I spent one day last week in the company of a very animated two year-old boy, and our morning mainly consisted of feeding an entire package of graham crackers to some very grateful ducks swimming in a pond. Having gone quite a few years without feeding ducks, I had forgotten the inherent happiness in it. When you've surpassed your early years, you begin to recognize some drawbacks- the gooey, soggy graham crackers floating in the murky pond, the uncomfortable position of kneeling in the wet, muddy grass beside the pond, and the chill in the air as you work to disperse each cracker in the water; and yet, the little boy's enthusiasm fueled me despite my complaints. Perhaps he believed that without our help, the ducks wouldn't have eaten all morning- or perhaps he merely enjoyed watching the ducks race each other to get the cracker pieces. Regardless, I realized that sometimes, age clouds our ideas about happiness. We forget that there is contentment in simple things; indeed, we look to insufficient- and sometimes wrong- means for our happiness. Or, most gravely, we mistake happiness for joy. I do not maintain that there was joy in feeding the ducks; because as pleasant as that experience was, I think more highly of joy than to limit it in that way. However, little pockets of happiness, among which lies this sweet memory, seem to somehow create a joyful life. The laughter that bubbled up from this little boy as he hurled the crackers toward the ducks was a happy moment, and I am thankful for it because it added to the joy I have in spending time in the company of children.
I am obliged to this little boy for teaching me something I had lost and am very glad to have found. I am hardly surprised at the lesson I learned from this child so much my junior- for what else greater gift do children give us, than that of re-discovering the meaningful things in life?
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